Tomorrow
by Chiefie
Summary: (Now posted under new title). After the downfall of his optimism, Eugene Horowitz believes he has experienced the ultimate collapse. Thusly, he turns to his lonely father for advice.
1. Prelude

"Before you can understand the future you must understand the past."  
  
February 19th- If I Could  
  
By Chief  
  
1. Prelude  
  
Looking out onto the star-dropped sky on a fair February evening, Eugene Horowitz turned over to his father, who was typing a spreadsheet on the laptop across the bedroom. The office was a complete and utter mess, with Jack Horowitz's company files stacked from one wall to the next, each stamped and stapled in their own individual way.  
  
Jack Horowitz, being an ordinary accountant in a city as large as Hillwood, never really seemed like too much of an adept at anything to Eugene. He was miniscule in height, nearly feather-light in weight, and always had his curly red hair uncombed and greasy while his glasses shifted to one side of his peculiar-shaped head.  
  
On this particular occasion, Jack had his black suit coat thrown over a leather chair in the corner. His tie had been tossed on the computer desk, and he was sweating profusely while his son turned shyly over to face him.  
  
Despite all of his concern in the Greenberg conflict (concerning a client that had pestered him for the past two weeks), Jack immediately realized that his son was not his typical self. Instead of being clever, peppy, and optimistic, Eugene was demure; he had barely uttered a word since his father's arrival home.  
  
With this realization in mind, Jack slowly approached his son, and ran his thin, but comforting, fingers through his son's thin layer of tomato-red hair.  
  
"Eugene, is there something bothering you? Usually at this time of night you're bouncing up and down or singing some sort of a song." Jack chuckled to himself and pulled the leather chair over from the corner for Eugene to sit in. "I always thought you were supposed to be the one that cheered me up after a hard day." Jack could see the quiver in Eugene's lips before he even talked.  
  
"I know, dad," Eugene replied, stopping for a moment to scratch his eyes (which appeared to have traces of red surrounding the corneas), "it's just that sometimes I feel like nothing can ever seem to go my way."  
  
Jack was shocked beyond belief to hear his son say this. In spite of his clumsiness and physical inhibitions, Eugene had never let any tribulation sway him from his everlasting optimism. It was in this statement that Jack understood his purpose that very evening.  
  
The aging man motioned for Eugene to sit down, while curling his own upper lip. "Why don't you have a seat and tell me about what's going on? You know I won't tell anybody; I don't even have anyone to tell." Jack had to keep his composure after the previous comment, since the memories of his wife's tragic death were resurfacing in his head.  
  
*-*  
  
He had remembered it perfectly: it was a bright summer afternoon, when Eugene was only seven years old. In a typical family outing, Jack had taken his small family out onto a boat in the ocean for whale watching. The whales were supposed to be migrating during that time, so he thought it would be a wonderful experience for his son to remember later on in life.  
  
The wind was only a slight breeze that afternoon, so there was no eminent danger as the boat ventured towards its destination thirty miles from shore. The family waited among others upon their arrival at the whale- watching location, but there had barely been a hint of activity after two long hours of stationary movement. The spectators were growing anxious, namely Gracie Horowitz, the dark-haired, freckle-faced, wife of Jack. She began to pace back and forth across the boat, wondering if this expedition was truly worth her while.  
  
Within half an hour, an identical boat parked next to the Horowitz party, offering to take frustrated spectators back to shore. A small handful of families evacuated the whale-watching boat to begin their journey home. One of which pondering the idea was the Horowitz family.  
  
"Come on, Jack, it's going to be getting late soon," Gracie pleaded to Jack while grasping his arm with her bony hand. "You know how sickly Eugene is, especially when out in the cold."  
  
However, Jack combated his wife's statement with his own argument. "Don't worry so mach, Grace; the whales will be here soon. Freddy had told me at the firm that they usually didn't show up until about six o'clock."  
  
Frustrated, but still realizing her husband's ambition to the activity, Gracie gave in and the waiting continued. The departing boat vanished out of sight, and the courageous whale-watchers continued their preparation for the big moment when the whales would finally arrive. However, their frustration caused them to toss their lifejackets aside so they could linger comfortably.  
  
At six o'clock, and with still no sightings of whales, the captain of the boat informed his audience that they would depart in thirty minutes. Even the captain, who had grown so familiar of the situations and environment of the sea, was becoming restless. It began to look like the expedition would not find any success on that day.  
  
Then, in almost a miraculous moment, Gracie spotted through her binoculars the tail fin of humpback whale a few kilometers away, splashing the sea water high into the air.  
  
Gracie pointed out the miracle to Jack, Eugene, and the others crowding the area of the boat. "There's a whale out there! I think it's coming closer!"  
  
This nearly caused mass pandemonium as the small crowd of people all rushed through their camera bags to prepare for the photo opportunity of a lifetime. The crowd pressed themselves against the stainless steel guardrails, with Gracie pushed to the front of the pack while holding a nine-millimeter camera in hand. The spectacle occurred in such a brief period of time that lifejackets were further disregarded.  
  
"Try to get a good picture, Gracie! We can frame it in the living room!" Jack cried out to his wife in excitement. They had recently purchased a new home, and were looking for new ways to decorate. Jack then turned around to lift Eugene into the air so he could soon catch a glimpse of the amazement.  
  
The whale had vanished for a few moments, and the crowd was again becoming disappointed. Then, however, the true moment of joy arrived. The whale splashed out of the water one hundred feet from the boat, and a frenzy of picture-taking began. Spectators rushed forward, attempting to get the best possible shot of the glorious creature in all of its beauty. Gracie was being pressed further and further into the guardrail by the anxious photographers, and realized that her only possible way to photograph the creature would be to lean over the guardrail to take the picture.  
  
As the crowd crammed closer and closer together, she pushed her delicate body forward onto the guardrail. She leaned over as far as she possibly could, and took a snapshot as the massive whale splashed into the water. Water sprayed the spectators, who were cheering and celebrating their good fortune. The whale's tail fin nudged the boat, but it seemed everyone was able to retain his or her balance. It was a celebration like no other; the spectators strapped their lifejackets back on, and the captain started up the boat before the journey home commenced.  
  
It took approximately five minutes for the massive crowd to disperse, and the boat was already turning its way back to shore. As the spectators made their way back to their seats in the boat's center, Jack quickly realized that his wife was nowhere to be seen. In the midst of the celebration, he had grown too excited in showing Eugene the whale that he had forgotten all about his wife's safety.  
  
Jack frantically searched the boat, waiting for the figure of his wife to appear before his eyes. Much to his dismay, it did not. He asked the fellow spectators of her whereabouts, but none had noticed her disappearance. They were all too concentrated with the sighting of the whale.  
  
He ran to the captain, holding his child's hand and with exasperated tears running down his face. He demanded that the boat be turned around so that a proper search could be conducted, and that his wife could be found. However, the captain refused in being so exhausted from the day at sea. He told Jack not to worry; that his wife was onboard somewhere. Someone on board would have noticed if something disastrous had occurred.  
  
Jack attempted everything to persuade the captain to turn around. He threatened to call the Coast Guard or even pay the man, but to no prevail. Soon enough, the boat docked back in Hillwood City, and Jack walked Eugene off of the boat. Gracie was still nowhere to be found, and the search continued through the night. Now on shore, a rescue team was sent out to find the missing woman. Eugene was sent to his uncle's house, and Jack searched throughout the night.  
  
Gracie's body washed up on shore the next morning. She had fallen off the boat after taking the photograph, and no one had even noticed her tragic plummet. So for months, the tears fell inside the Horowitz household harder than any water could strike a boat. Jack had considered a lawsuit against the captain and the whale-watching company, but he eventually rebuked the idea. He did not want Eugene to experience that kind of turmoil at an early age, and he was afraid of being blamed for the death. Jack did not wish for others to blame him, for he already blamed himself. He was terrified and paranoid of the thoughts and feelings of those around him.  
  
He had spent the next two years thinking of how things could have been different if he had listened to her words or watched her more closely. The thing he was most upset about, however, was the fact that he never even noticed her disappearance until there was little he could do to save her.  
  
Then pain inside of him never fully dissipated, but Eugene's clever (and unusual) optimism pushed him through tough times. He encouraged Jack to continue his job as an accountant, and to never give up on his dreams. "Things will get better," Eugene would tell him, "they have to".  
  
Now, however, he was seeing the opposite in his son. Eugene had never looked so destitute. If Eugene had acted in such a way before the incident, Jack would have thought little of it. He would have simply shunned it off as a phase and continued with his business.  
  
After the incident, things were different between him and Eugene. They had grown to become good friends as well as father and son; they were really all each other had to hold on to in life. If the bond between them ever broke, the may not even survive.  
  
Thus on this occasion, Jack knew there had to be something he could do for his son. Whether it was to either offer kind words or to simply put a warm hand on his son's shoulder, he would find a way to resolve the issue.  
  
Jack quickly threw aside the Greenberg files and placed his hands on his own lap. Though exhausted himself, he looked at his son and saw the same level of despair in his eyes that he had felt that June afternoon.  
  
"So, tell me what's been going on, Eugene." Eugene finally made full eye contact with his father, and the words from his mouth commenced to form. 


	2. Manifestation

Note: Thanks to everyone for the generous reviews. I apologize for the long wait between chapters, but I hope that the final result will be enjoyable.  
  
--  
  
"The key to success can also open the door to failure."  
  
2. Manifestation  
  
Eugene walked into the school filled with his typical excitement and ambition for the day ahead. Thursday, February 19th was not necessarily a day that Eugene was too much looking forward to, but he did not hold it in any level of disdain. Februaries had never exactly provided great moments in the year for him; every year Valentine's Day would arrive, and he would be left unwillingly alone. He had never let the rejection dampen his feelings completely, but the sting in his heart had lasted well into that particular morning.  
  
As soon as Eugene carried his small body through the front doors of the school, he found himself quickly falling onto the ground. Standing above him was Harold Berman, the overweight bully of Eugene's class. He was somewhat lacking in intelligence.  
  
"Haha, Eugene! You're such a jinx!" Harold exclaimed while his fat belly shook up and down. Harold then walked over to his friends, Sid and Stinky, while Eugene was left to fend for himself. Thankfully, he quickly received a friendly hand up.  
  
"Good morning, Eugene. Did those angry boys knock you over again?"  
  
Eugene looked up to see the smiling face of is best friend Sheena Goldenrod. As always, she had entered the school shortly after Eugene to save him from whatever torture had awaited him inside of those menacing doors.  
  
"Yeah," he replied hesitantly while getting to his feet. "I'm all right. I really don't let those guys bother me; I'm sure they're just doing it out of good spirit. They wouldn't really want to hurt my feelings."  
  
"My father says that elementary school boys do it out of a manifestation for attention more than anything else. They think that violence impresses people, but they are quick to learn it is terribly wrong." Sheena adjusted her pink backpack to make carrying the load of books more comfortable. She was a significant bit taller in stature than Eugene, which made strolling with him down the hallway quite a fascinating sight to see.  
  
Sheena had been Eugene's best friend ever since they were in kindergarten. Neither one of them was perceived to be much of anything socially, so they gradually formed their own alliance, where they basically kept to themselves and were happy with who they were as individuals, rather than what the other classmates thought of them.  
  
Over the years, Sheena had taught Eugene to be clever and optimistic, in some ways the mirror image of her. They both knew that their classmates considered them "geeks", but they had formed an overall impression of it similar to Social Darwinism: someone had to be at the bottom of the social pyramid, and it might as well be them. Plus, they figured that the other classmates didn't necessarily hate them, as much as they just liked to be humored. Eugene didn't mind making people laugh, even if it was at his own expense.  
  
While turning the corner into the 4th-grade hallway, Sheena resumed the conversation while watching a flood of children barrel past her, screaming and laughing. "You know, I'm so glad it's Thursday, Eugene."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"This afternoon is Art Day, silly. I would surely think you would know my love for art by now." Once again, Eugene had forgotten about Sheena's obsession. Her drawings on Art Day were always the most imaginative in the class, and would always seem to end up posted on Mr. Simmons' "Wall of Happiness", along with several other wonderful works of the class. Eugene was always jealous of Sheena's ability in art, since his paintings typically were typically made up of splatters of red and blue paint bridged together with a smudge of brown. It saddened him.  
  
Eugene, not at all distressed by the incident with Harold at the doorway, finally entered the classroom of Mr. Simmons to see a large group of girls huddling around a cluster of desks. Upon his entrance, he was met with a chorus of "oohs", along with frequent laughter.  
  
"Hey look girls, Eugene and his girlfriend have finally made it to class. I'm surprised to see them not holding hands." This comment was quickly followed by a cackle.  
  
"We should so get them some matching shirts so they can match. Everyone already knows they're an item, anyway." The girls giggled continuously, and Eugene's face turned a crimson red. Eugene was used to comments like these from Helga Pataki and Rhonda Lloyd, two of the more obnoxious girls in his class, but it embarrassed him just the same.  
  
"I think the relationship of Eugene and I is of no business to you girls," Sheena said to combat their statements. However, she still couldn't hide the smile that had formed on her face.  
  
Eugene had known for years of Sheena's affections towards him, but he always attempted to avoid any sort of referencing concerning their relationship. He was always cordial towards Sheena, but never in any way affectionate. This often frustrated Sheena into making them seem like a couple to the outside world, and Eugene, naturally being a considerate individual, did not have the heart to rebuke her advances.  
  
However, the constant stream of laughter towards him could not stop him from focusing his attention on the one individual he truly cared for. As always upon his arrival in the classroom, she was situated in the front row, with her silky ebony hair done up in a small ponytail and a bright smile evident on her face from corner to corner. She was always on the outside looking in with the more popular females, which always made him feel more ambitious towards a relationship with her.  
  
Her name was Phoebe Diane Hyerdahl, and Eugene had at one time believed that they were destined to be together. Neither one of them was the most popular or obnoxious, but they did have a tendency to be among the most artistic and intelligent. Unfortunately, this period of destined romantic success was frequently halted by Sheena's continuing advances.  
  
Eugene had longed to have at least an ongoing friendship with Phoebe for years, but Sheena's constant jealousy limited him to an exasperated "hi Phoebe" every now and then in the hallway. He wasn't necessarily mad at Sheena for having the feelings she did, but he wished that one day he could actually showcase his true abilities, and be able to catch the eye of the one he so greatly desired. Phoebe, much to his misfortune, was often too enthralled in academics to pay attention to anyone except Helga, who had enslaved her in an even more torturous way than Sheena had him.  
  
Looking into her glass-lined retinas Eugene quickly took his seat behind Phoebe, hiding his face in embarrassment. He usually was not distressed by the comments of his peers, but being ridiculed about his love life made him feel slightly different, especially in front of the only one he truly cared for.  
  
Seeing Eugene sit down, this quickly prompted Sheena to take her seat directly behind young Horowitz. Sadly, this situation made things even more destitute for Eugene, since he could barely even glance up at the back of Phoebe's head without feeling uncomfortable. He was able to glance at the navy blue Scrunchie in her hair, however, as the students began to pour into the brightly lit classroom.  
  
At the time of the bell, Mr. Simmons joyfully trotted into the room (with "Peapod Kid", Peter Carr, shortly following, who was always "terribly sorry" about being late). Eugene quickly beamed at the sight of Mr. Simmons' entrance, as he had grown to become one of Eugene's greatest role models in his young life.  
  
In some ways, Mr. Simmons was everything Eugene could dream to be as an adult. He was intelligent, thoughtful, and caring; he made it his utmost goal to help others before himself. Before receiving Mr. Simmons as a teacher, Eugene had B's and C's as opposed to the low A's he was awarded currently.  
  
It only took the thin, balding man ten seconds before bouncing around the classroom.  
  
"Hello, class!" he exclaimed in his undying pleasantry.  
  
"Hi, Mr. Simmons!" Eugene shouted back amidst the grumbling of his fellow classmates. Eugene was the only person that ever really greeted Mr. Simmons, while the rest of the class snickered at his bizarre appreciation for a fourth-grade educator.  
  
"Why thank you, Eugene," Mr. Simmons replied. "While everyone is equally special to me, I do appreciate that optimism every morning." Eugene heard somebody cough "teacher's pet" in the back row, but the teacher continued to talk before laughter could resonate through the room.  
  
"Now class, as we have been doing every morning for the past week and half, it is time to make observations on our bean plants! Let's all hurry over to the window and see what has changed with our special experiment!" The majority of the class scurried over to the windowsill to glance at their bean plants. The science project had been one of the only highlights of the school in the past week, and most of the students enjoyed hands-on work more than anything else.  
  
Eugene crawled in between Harold Berman and Stinky Petersen to make his way to his clay pot containing his bean plant. He was almost so ashamed of his plant that he hugged it close to himself. He didn't know what exactly he had done wrong in preparation; he had used the same amount of water and soil as everyone else. However, his plant was the smallest in the entire classroom, and was even somewhat deformed. It looked as if it had been smashed on and straightened back out.  
  
Stinky, who was standing at Eugene's immediate left, caught a glimpse at Eugene's plant through the corner of his eyes. "Gosh, Eugene, I reckon that plant's just as big as you are." Stinky's plant was, of course, the tallest and most impressive plant in the class. While he was considerably awful in just about every other trade, Stinky had found his niche in agriculture.  
  
Eugene did wish that Stinky had kept his enormous mouth shut, though, for his comment prompted his plant to get the attention of Harold, who was purposely dejecting and rude.  
  
"Haha! Look at Eugene's little sissy plant. We should put both of you shrimps in the sun to see if you grow any!" Harold continued to cackle while Sheena pushed herself in front of her obese classmate.  
  
"Why, I think Eugene's bean plant is different and unique, Harold. Unlike yours, that symbolizes the boring and mundane cycle of everyday life." Sheena patted Eugene on the back, while Harold stared off into space with his mouth open. He was still trying to figure out the meaning of the word "mundane".  
  
After Sheena walked back toward her own plant (which had flowers and hearts drawn on the ceramic pot), Eugene glanced in the opposite direction towards Phoebe. She was only a few pots down from him, and was carefully examining the leaves when he glanced over. At that moment in time he wished that she wasn't around for once; had she heard what the other students had said? That was the most distressing part of Eugene's relationship with Phoebe; she didn't see him at his best, or even when he was succeeding for that manner. She sadly only could look upon his faults and the way he was constantly tormented by his classmates.  
  
Just once he would have like to prove everyone wrong, and show that he was a gifted human being that had just as many advantages as he did setbacks. All he wanted was to get one chance to talk to her.  
  
However, that one chance was hastily interrupted by Helga nagging at Phoebe to get her a notebook. Eugene sighed in a melancholy fashion, and went back to observing his misbegotten plant.  
  
*-*  
  
Approximately fifteen minutes later, Eugene found himself sitting down at his desk with a notebook full of the day's plant observations. The class was instructed to retrieve their math materials out of their desk, which they all did in a systematic fashion.  
  
Eugene wiped the sweat off of his forehead as Mr. Simmons again stepped to the front of the class. Math was always his worst subject, and he typically had to spend more time on his math homework than on the rest of his assignments combined.  
  
"All right, boys and girls, I'm very excited that your plants are growing so wonderfully. Next week at open house we will have to showcase to your family just how special your plant is and how it has grown over the past few weeks." Mr. Simmons held a finger up to indicate that he was simply changing subjects. "Now it is time for all of us to review our math assignment from last night. Today, I thought it would be a delightful idea for each of you to come up the front and work a problem for the rest of the class, that way we can see your own special way of doing math."  
  
Mr. Simmons briefly looked down at the dreaded back gradebook lying in his hands. Slowly and articulately, he called out his first victim.  
  
"Phoebe, we don't you start things out for us?"  
  
Phoebe nodded her tiny little head, and began the short journey up to the chalkboard. Eugene watched her every footstep towards the front, and was overall quite relieved to discover that he had not been chosen to perform the deed.  
  
"Okay, Phoebe, do question seven from the homework," Simmons said cunningly. "If a square has a length of four on each side, what is the area of the square?" Phoebe quickly worked out the problem on the board, taking four and multiplying it by itself.  
  
"The answer is sixteen, Mr. Simmons," she replied with the utmost confidence.  
  
"Why, that's absolutely correct, Phoebe!" Now class, the reason that her answer is correct is that..."  
  
Eugene's mind wandered far off of the topic of math as Simmons explained the method of solving the easy problem. It seemed to him that Phoebe had never missed a single question at the board; she was perfect in nearly every way (at least in his perception), but was yet as far away from him as humanly possible. She wasn't just out of his league; she was in another sport entirely.  
  
As his mind drifted off into fantasy, he began to wonder what his life could be like if he could just start over with Phoebe, and she would never remember his horrible reputation. The only side Eugene's classmates saw him as was nerdy, small, and insignificant. Before he was even given an opportunity to prove his worth, he was shirked. If only he could do like the superheroes did to the women they loved. If only he could whisk Phoebe off to the tallest mountain, look down at the city hand in hand, and say...  
  
"Eugene."  
  
Eugene? No, he would saw how much he cared, and how much he longed for that one moment when...  
  
"Eugene, even though I am a believer in the understanding daydreams are very imaginative, it is time for you to wake up." The mountain and the city vanished before his eyes, transforming into the concerned face of Mr. Simmons. The students around him were chuckling, and Simmons had obviously been trying to attract his attention for quite some time. He didn't even know how long he had been daydreaming.  
  
"Now that you're back with us, Eugene, you can work problem nineteen on the board." Oblivious as to the tribulation approaching him, Eugene straightened his white t-shirt and strolled up to the chalkboard to look down at his sheet of paper.  
  
"Question nineteen, huh? No problem," he thought to himself as he glanced down at his sheet of paper. However, under the question, he discovered nothing but a blank space.  
  
"Here's the question, class," Mr. Simmons read aloud. "If the two short sides of a right triangle have lengths of six and eight, what is the length of the longest side?"  
  
Upon hearing the question aloud, Eugene blanked instantly. He now recalled that the question about the right triangle had completely befuddled him. He was never a person to become nervous in front of a crowd, but he began to tremble at the reading of the question. He didn't remember how to do right triangles in the least.  
  
To at least make it seem as if he was knowledgeable in the subject, Eugene began scribbling random numbers onto the chalkboard; a seven here, a five there, and even the symbol for pi to contribute to the overall effect. Finally, however, he ended up adding six and eight together to get fourteen.  
  
Trying to still sound confident, he quickly stated to his instructor, "I believe the answer to your question is fourteen, Mr. Simmons."  
  
Simmons hesitated for a moment, and despondently shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, Eugene, for that answer is not correct." Eugene was humiliated enough by his answer, but Harold worsened it by cackling in the back of the class and shouting "Haha! What a wussy little baby!"  
  
Swiftly shifting his head around, Mr. Simmons glared into the bully's eyes. "Well Harold, if you believe that you are special enough to answer this question, why don't you come try it yourself?" Slowly and reluctantly, Harold made his way to the front of the class amidst his own small group of chuckles.  
  
One would have thought that Eugene would have felt some reconciliation in knowing that Harold could also be ridiculed, but he didn't. He was extremely frustrated with himself beyond anything else, and how he couldn't even succeed when he had the ideal opportunity to. He sank down deep into his chair, in hopes that Phoebe to was also daydreaming about superheroes and mountains and didn't notice his complete and utter humiliation in front of the entire class.  
  
Unfortunately, he was positive that Phoebe had been listening. She had always been the most attentive student in the class, which explained her stellar grades. His one chance at impressing her was basically ruined, and he didn't know when that chance would ever come again.  
  
Harold continued to stumble over the problem on the board in a method as pathetic as Eugene's, and within a few minutes the bell rang for lunch. Mr. Simmons revealed the answer to be ten, and he sent the students on their way.  
  
Sheena joined him in the hallway, but their walk to lunch seemed to be painfully longer than usual. Instead of having shoes built with rockets and wings, they were now enveloped in lead.  
  
*-*  
  
The lunchroom was somewhat crowded by the time Eugene and Sheena had entered the double doors and crawled into the lunch line. Lunch was always one of the greatest times of the day, at least because of the enormous social opportunities that awaited Eugene and his classmates. Eugene had never loved it or hated it; he just simply recognized its existence.  
  
The lunch line went by extremely quickly, and Eugene soon found himself looking up at the lunch menu.  
  
"Oh, pizza!" He exclaimed joyfully. Eugene adored pizza, and anticipated the days in which it was served above any others.  
  
A passing glance was given to Sheena, who shrugged and threw her caramel-colored hair over her shoulder. "Honestly, Eugene, I cannot see how people can enjoy eating things with such a large quantity of grease." She smiled at the lunch lady, who seemed overjoyed to have some loving care thrown into her daily routine. "I'll have my usual, Mrs. Gloth." Mrs. Gloth served her a garden salad along with a roll. Needless to say, Sheena was a vegetarian.  
  
From here the students continued their stroll down the lunch line, and received their apples and cartons of chocolate milk before making their way to the cashier at the end. The cashier was an elderly woman that had not been working at P. S. 118 for a long period of time, and was regarded for being notoriously spiteful and horrid to children. She was so unfriendly that no student was courageous enough to even ask her name.  
  
In a matter of seconds, though, Eugene found himself under the stare of her menacing little eyes.  
  
"Where's your money, kid?" She said in a raspy voice.  
  
The nervous child flustered through his pockets before he realized that he had paid ahead by check.  
  
"Um...you should have name listed as Eugene Horowitz. I have a few dollars left on my account, if my memory serves me correctly." Eugene stuttered as he spoke, and the menacing woman looked down on him almost as if she would rip his head off on the spot.  
  
"I don't see your name on here," the woman stated while briefly scanning her sheet of pre-paid students. "Looks like we have no lunch for you, kid." She grimaced while snatching Eugene's tray and pizza from his hands.  
  
"Next!"  
  
Eugene trudged over to the lunch table on the other side of the cafeteria. The small group that he sat with, commonly known as the "geek table", was the smallest in the cafeteria, and only consisted of three individuals (the fourth person, Billy, had moved earlier in the year). They were forced to sit at the table in the corner of the lunchroom, which was extremely old and rickety; Eugene had placed a chunk of Styrofoam under one leg to keep it from wobbling just so they could enjoy their lunch in peace.  
  
By the time Eugene had fully taken his seat, he was joined by Sheena and his other comrade, a tall, funny-looking fellow by the name of Brainy. Brainy was of the quiet sort, and nobody had really conversed with him enough to get a large amount of personal information out of him. Nobody even knew his real name, since Mr. Simmons commonly referred to him as Brainy, as well.  
  
Sheena waved and smiled at her friend as she took her seat.  
  
"Hello, Eugene! Are you feeling okay? You seem a little more discouraged than usual."  
  
Eugene shrugged while placing his thin hands in front of him. "I suppose so. It's just been kind of frustrating day. I'm sure things will get better, but the earlier events are getting to me more today than usual. It must be because it's pizza day."  
  
"Well, I overheard what happened with you and the cashier moments ago and Brainy said you could share his lunch with him. I realize you probably do not wish to eat salad with me."  
  
For the first time in nearly an hour, a trace of a smile began to appear across Eugene's lips. "Hey, thanks a lot Brainy."  
  
"Uh...no problem," Brainy replied with a wheeze; he was so thin that he wouldn't be able to finish his lunch, anyway.  
  
Eugene snagged a piece of pepperoni while Sheena batted her eyes, and looked over at Brainy. "So have you finally found the courage to talk to Helga?"  
  
"Uh...no," Brainy replied quietly, and his breathing slowly increased.  
  
"And why not?" Sheena had been almost forceful when it came to the love life of Brainy, since he seemed to lack any initiative whatsoever when it came to Helga, the girl he was said to supposedly "like".  
  
"Uh...I saw her at her locker," Brainy again replied slowly, in the midst of his own speech impediments.  
  
"And what did you say?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
This caused Sheena to reform to her monotonous attitude towards Brainy. They had been relaying these questions back and forth for over a year now.  
  
"And did she hit you?" Sheena asked cynically, and almost sarcastically.  
  
"Yes...she did."  
  
"Brainy! I am so unsure of what do with you! You have been..."  
  
Eugene had allowed Sheena's voice to slowly fade into the background. All this talk about romantic failure had led him back to his own manifestation: Phoebe. He had hidden his adoration for years without even letting his own friends in on the secret.  
  
If only he had been more courageous from the very beginning and not lure Sheena into this false sense of security with him. If only he had admitted long before now how much he cared for the quiet, but wonderful, girl. At that lunch table, Eugene was forced to make a critical decision. He did not want to be trapped in the same agonizing cycle any longer. Come recess, his secret would be revealed, and if he could, he would claim Phoebe to be his own.  
  
*-*  
  
If I  
  
If I just breathe  
  
If I believe your words are true  
  
Will you love me just like I love you?  
  
If I  
  
If I just pray  
  
If I could say that I could hold you near  
  
And trouble would not find you here  
  
--  
  
If I could be so perfect  
  
If I could be so sweet  
  
Would it even help me?  
  
Or make me more discreet  
  
--  
  
I wish I could run  
  
I wish I could plea  
  
I wish I could have you here with me  
  
I wish I could dream  
  
I wish it would seem  
  
To make us two a team  
  
--  
  
If I could, and I know I would  
  
Hold your hand in mine  
  
If I could  
  
--  
  
If I  
  
If I just call  
  
If I'm appalled at the way things go  
  
How most solutions I don't know  
  
If I  
  
If I could glide  
  
My love can't hide as I now soar  
  
As I see you then I love more  
  
--  
  
If I could be so perfect  
  
If I could be so great  
  
Would it even help me?  
  
Or make love dissipate  
  
--  
  
I wish I could run  
  
I wish I could plea  
  
I wish I could have you here with me  
  
I wish I could dream  
  
I wish it would seem  
  
To make us two a team  
  
--  
  
If I could, and I know I would  
  
Set my spirits high  
  
If I could  
  
--  
  
The world may never change  
  
The rules may not rearrange  
  
--  
  
If I just breathe, if I believe  
  
If I just pray, if I could say  
  
If I just call, if I'm appalled  
  
If I just glide, my love I can't hide  
  
--  
  
I wish I could run  
  
I wish I could plea  
  
I wish I could have you here with me  
  
I wish I could dream  
  
I wish it would seem  
  
To make us two a team  
  
--  
  
If I could, and I know I would  
  
Take your heart and fly  
  
If I could  
  
*-*  
  
Eugene paused briefly after talking about lunch, and took a minute to retrieve a glass of water. All of this storytelling was difficult on him when it came to staying hydrated.  
  
Jack Horowitz wiped off his glasses and stared at his son, whose mood had not altogether changed much since the beginning of his story.  
  
"Well, if that's all that happened, then it wasn't too terrible of a day. You had some minor setbacks, but you should be able to bounce back in no time." Jack would have said more, but he could tell that Eugene would have interrupted.  
  
"That wasn't the worst part, dad; that was just the beginning of the day." The statement contained the loudest words that Eugene had uttered all evening.  
  
Jack could offer little other than an "oh" after hearing his son's exclamation. He had been able to keep his overall composure fairly well through hearing the first part of Eugene's tribulations, but he wasn't sure of how he would be able to maintain that emotion much longer.  
  
Unfortunately, though, sometimes things never seem to get better as fast as one wants them to. The trying times were still ahead. 


	3. Despondence

Note: Thank you guys so much for the reviews, and I have been taking many of your comments into consideration. This story has been a personal revelation for me, which explains why I have spent so long trying to perfect these chapters. I hope you enjoy the next part.  
  
"Loving is easy; the hardest part is learning to let go."  
  
3. Despondence  
  
The recreation area was packed with students, as it was every sunny afternoon at 12:30; kids with messy hair were smacking tetherballs back and forth, along with bullies and athletes attempting to impress the girls with their athletics (typically to no prevail).  
  
Eugene, however, was sitting stationary on a rusty old swing that had grown too lopsided to even play on. Not all of his class had arrived at the playground as of yet, so he was content with sitting in his most favorite of positions. Actually, he preferred to stay in present location even when the playground was full, especially since the popular kids like Gerald Johanseen, Iggy Landry, and Arnold (who Eugene couldn't ever seem to remember the last name of) would reserve his only other desired location, the jungle gym, before he could even step foot onto the concrete.  
  
After about three minutes of sitting on his lonely swing, he watched Sheena happily trot over to him. Even with lunch now settled in her stomach, she didn't even seem to lose any of her everlasting cheer.  
  
"Hi Eugene," she said to him with a hand on his bony shoulder and a wide smile across her face. "Are you okay? You do not seem to be as perky today as you are on most days at this time."  
  
"Yes Sheena, I'm perfectly fine," he replied with about as much fake sanguinity that he could muster. "I'm always ready to look past any problem!"  
  
"All right, if you're certain." She took a moment to lean against the metal railing of the swing set and focus her attention entirely on her friend. "You still up to practicing our dance today?"  
  
Eugene felt a strong combination of happiness and anxiety at the mentioning of their dance routine. He adored dancing more than anything in the known world (he even hoped one day to either be a dancer or a choreographer), but he was also afraid of spending a large amount of time with Sheena. It wasn't as much a dislike for his best friend as much as it was a fear that Phoebe may get the wrong impression of their relationship.  
  
Eugene quickly gave in, though, and stepped up from his favorite old swing. He had been practicing all year with Sheena, so doing it an additional day couldn't cause any more damage than what was already existent.  
  
There was a small corner of the playground by the highway that Eugene and Sheena frequently rehearsed their dance moves. It was one of the only locations on the playground that wasn't loaded with slides or climbing equipment; the administration was probably afraid that their students would use the equipment for an escape route and scatter onto the highway.  
  
The corner was shaded by a large elm tree, which helped keep the climate temperate and the winter wind vanquished from the area. Eugene warned up his arms and legs for a moment in their present location, and then the dancing finally commenced. The piece they were working on had been practiced diligently for months; it was a complex routine that Sheena had seen on the figure skating championships at home and wrote down the movements for.  
  
The dance would start out very simple: Eugene and Sheena would both arch out their arms to equal length, and rotate around one another one hundred and eighty degrees until they reached the opposing side. This exercise was quickly followed by another arm movement with one leg up in the air. Some of the moves were taxing to perform without ice skates, but they always seemed to manage.  
  
"So far, so good!" Eugene exclaimed as they continued their movements from side to side, along with the occasion twirl and slide across the ground. Neither one of them ever felt the strong ambition to talk during their practicing, since they were typically so immersed in their performance to even stay in reality.  
  
Most people Eugene's age would consider dancing to be along the lines of "sissy" and "girlie", but he had grown rather fond of it. Instead of doing something mundane and lackluster, he could express his individualism. Even with the unusual teaching methods of Mr. Simmons, he was never truly given a chance to express himself as a human being outside of his dancing at recess.  
  
Suddenly, after finishing his final turn, Eugene slowly crouched down for the most difficult and embarrassing part of the routine. As he leaned forward, Sheena was supposed to jump into his hands and be carried in the air. Meanwhile, he was forced to lift one foot in the air. Unfortunately, he had a tendency to misjudge his foot movement, and he would jerk up slightly early.  
  
This time was no exception. He cautiously prepared himself, and he counted in unison with his dance partner:  
  
"One, two, three, four, and jump!"  
  
Unfortunately, Eugene arched back up on three, and ended up toppling back into the chain link fence of the playground. He was glad to know that his disaster went unseen, as obnoxious laughter would have been echoing through the playground by that point.  
  
Sheena caught her breath, and stepped back from her dance partner. "Well, hopefully we can get that part down tomorrow. The bell is about to ring."  
  
Eugene uttered a demure "yeah" while watching his good friend walk away. It was an unusual feeling he felt when dancing with her; he felt comfortable, and as if everything that could be right with the world was. As she vanished on the other side of the playground, ironically, his attention turned over to Phoebe. Ninety-five percent of the time at recess he expected her to be slaving over Helga and one of her inane errands, but she was surprisingly alone.  
  
Almost as if a pack of dynamite exploded in his head, Eugene realized that this was the one opportunity he had been waiting for; if he hurried, he would get to talk with Phoebe, which was an extremely rare occasion with the social pyramid the students had constructed (Eugene was frequently locked in a small tomb in the basement). He wasn't even sure of what to say to her at the present moment, but he commenced to hurry across the playground before someone could break his confidence or steal her attention.  
  
About halfway along his journey, Eugene finally broke until a full-blown jog to talk to his beloved. He just had to speak with her, even if meant getting injured (which often happened to him). Much to his misfortune, his plot failed entirely as the running made it rather difficult for him to stop as a burly leg stuck itself in Eugene's path, causing him to tumble and slide across the cement on his arms and knees.  
  
The next thing Eugene knew he was staring up at the bright lights of the nurse's office.  
  
*-*  
  
"Eugene, are you okay?"  
  
The first moving figure Eugene saw above him was the portly outline of nurse Shelly Goldenrod, the school nurse and aunt to his good friend Sheena. In wearing solid white, Eugene could have easily mistaken her for an angel, had she been more beautiful.  
  
As the room around him began to stabilize, nurse Shelly continued to speak.  
  
"Apparently you scraped up your elbows and knees pretty good out there, Eugene. Evidently you fainted at the sight of your own blood; lucky for you Sheena got some of the teachers together to carry you to see me."  
  
Eugene grumbled to himself, and slowly climbed up to a sitting position. He was slightly banged up, but he was at least able to bend his arms and limbs to full degree (which was better than some of the results of his previous fiascos). He looked down at his shorts to find two enormous bandages taped to each knee. His arms were also bandages, which helped him to be relieved to discover that he wouldn't be fainting again.  
  
Shelly was still as concerned as ever, and stared down at him with her square-framed glasses. "Are you sure you're doing okay, Eugene? I can call your father if you don't feel like going back to class."  
  
Hardly a second passed before Eugene gave his answer. "I think I'm going to be just fine, Nurse Shelly. Can I head back to class now?" If Eugene had been given a premonition of the day ahead, he may have possibly changed his decision. In reality, though, he honestly didn't enjoy imposing on his father's business, and decided to venture back. He figured that in a few weeks he would suffer an injury worthy of a hospital visit, anyway.  
  
As Eugene was placing on his shoes and approaching the door, Nurse Shelly turned back towards him. "Tell Sheena I said hello, okay? She really seems to care for you to be helping you down here so often. You must be so overjoyed to have a friend so generous."  
  
Eugene's expression remained indifferent to the comment, and he quietly replied, "I know". He thanked the nurse, and opened the door to make his journey back.  
  
Now that everyone was in class, the hallways of the school felt entirely different. A place that was usually so vibrant and full of energy had transformed to be inhospitable and empty. The colorful walls seemed to mold themselves into shades of black and gray, and the linoleum floor began to feel like thin ice under his red sandals.  
  
The final words of Nurse Shelly had haunted Eugene more than he initially expected. Even though Sheena was somewhat overprotective, he had never really taken the time to show her any gratitude. She was really the only friend he had, and sometimes he wondered how they even came to be. He had supposed that Sheena's love had forced them together, even if none of her feelings towards him were returned. Eugene had constantly pondered as to what a relationship with his best friend could bring, but he was always quick to neglect the notion. He didn't want to ruin a perfectly good friendship, and it was Phoebe that he loved; Phoebe and no one else.  
  
As he walked closer and closer to the classroom of Mr. Simmons, he began to hear the excited and anxious voices of his classmates. In spite of his own level of disdain towards a particular amount of his fellow students, hearing those pleasant voices helped to make the walls more garish and the floor less treacherous to walk on. He would be allowed to be among his own people once again. Eugene felt much more secure around people than he did alone, for he was utterly terrified of solitude.  
  
As he walked slowly into the classroom, he went briefly unnoticed as he attempted to scamper to his seat. Mr. Simmons was speaking aloud about nutrition, and he was not detected until there was a lull in the conversation. Harold, of course being the obnoxious and frustrating ingrate that he was, then proceeded to screech across the classroom:  
  
"Hey look, you guys, it's the wimp Eugene! Why don't we trip him so he can fall on his face!"  
  
"Um...didn't you already trip him, Harold?" Arnold asked softly from behind the hulking bully.  
  
It took Harold a few moments for this information to seep into his thick skull, but he laughed immensely upon its reception. "Well, let's just trip him again! Haha!"  
  
Most of the class groaned at the boy's stupidity and Mr. Simmons once again took the helm of the classroom. Eugene, now sensing a perfect opportunity, snuck over to his desk and sat down.  
  
"Are you all right, Eugene?" Sheena whispered as he placed himself in front of her. Eugene nodded, and his focus again turned to Mr. Simmons.  
  
Almost as if the entire incident had never occurred, Simmons continued ahead with his next topic of conversation.  
  
"Okay, class! Now that we have gone over the very special parts of Nutrition Facts and cereal, I hope everyone remembered that today is Thursday!"  
  
"What the heck's that supposed to mean?" Stinky asked perplexingly.  
  
"Oh Stinky, you're just being impetuous," the teacher replied in a nonchalant manner.  
  
"What the..."  
  
"Now class, as we all know, Thursday means it is Art Day in our classroom." Simmons had taken the initiative to interrupt Stinky, since he obviously had no comprehension of the word "impetuous".  
  
Simmons quickly continued his speech. "I have been thinking for the past few days as to what to make the theme for today's Art Day when I was reminded of the very special time of year this is. With Valentine's Day being last Sunday, I would like everyone to draw something of great significance to them emotionally. It can be a person, an object, or even a place you like to visit. As always, we will stop a few minutes before the final bell rings we will cease the artistry and select a few extremely special works of art to appear on the Wall of Happiness. If you have any questions or need any special supplies, be sure to talk to me. With that, I wish you all the best of luck!"  
  
Almost as if the gunshot for the Kentucky Derby had been blazed into the sky, the class whipped out their art supplies and began to work diligently. Over the course of the year, Art Day had become the pinnacle of the week's excitement; a place on the Wall of Happiness typically meant a good grade as well as popularity, so nearly every student was ambitious to earn the top prize.  
  
While none of Eugene's talents in art were truly exceptional, he figured he had a legitimate shot in just doing a simple sketch. The only real question that awaited him was what exactly to sketch. He could see himself getting laughed at and taunted for drawing his father, and he wasn't exactly sure of how to draw Dinoland or Quigley Field. He even briefly considered sketching Sheena, but the answer to his predicament was (literally) lying right before his eyes the entire time: Phoebe.  
  
In sitting just in front of him, Eugene would have a fairly good perception as to what the shape of Phoebe's head was, and he was fairly decent at drawing faces. He didn't want to portray anything below the neck, since the rest of the body would provide more failure than success for him.  
  
However, the only real problem that stood before him was the pure factor of risk. If he was able to complete the drawing successfully, his secret would be out about Phoebe. Sheena would likely become furious, and he could very well be laughed out of the school entirely. This question at hand caused Eugene to be in a great state of peril for quite some time before coming up with his final decision.  
  
Ultimately, Eugene took the courageous route and finally decided to sketch the face of his adored Phoebe. After the horrendous morning and early afternoon, he was certain that he would not be humiliated again. Even if he did suffer from blind optimism, he figured that his secret would come out sooner or later, and it might as well have been that particular afternoon. If his risk proved to be triumphant, the rest of the morning could be forgotten and the day would even turn out to be marvelous in the end. Thusly, with these ideas of happiness and romance flowing through his head, Eugene made his first pencil mark on the sheet of paper.  
  
The silence in the room was almost eerie as Eugene made movements across his thick paper. Art Day had grown into such a tradition that few rarely even spoke during their creations (except for Sid, who people suspected could not keep his mouth shut for two minutes).  
  
Eugene finished using his pencil, and switched over to crayons to color in Phoebe's face and hair. While he recognized immediately the simplicity of his creation, it was one of his finer works. In fact, it proved to be one of his few sketches that actually had a definite shape. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sheena scraping a paintbrush on her sheet of paper. More than likely, she was drawing herself under a tree or picking flowers. He was fascinated by the passion in which she worked, but realized how rude it would be to interrupt an artist during their master creation. Henceforth, he focused once again on creating his masterpiece. By the time he finished, he had drawn the curves of her face near flawlessly, and had traced a small smile across her mouth.  
  
As the minutes ticked away, he slowly watched the marvel in front of him take form. Within minutes, Mr. Simmons would stand in front of the classroom and announce that time had expired. He would then let each student present their original work to the class, and Eugene would hold his sketch up high in pride and say:  
  
"This picture I drew specifically for somebody I wish I could know more than I do. I care very much about Phoebe, and I hope that we can become very close over the rest of the year. In fact, I'd go as far to say that I adore her."  
  
That would only be the beginning; from then on they would walk everywhere hand in hand, smiling at one another every opportunity they could. Their names would be carved on trees, with such things as "Eugene and Phoebe forever" or just a simple "EH and PH" would do perfectly. After all that, he could make his superhero fantasy become reality; he would whisk her away to Hawk Mountain and tell her how much he cared while looking down upon the city and running his fingers through her delicate hair.  
  
Ah, if only the outcome of reality was even somewhat parallel to one's dreams. The moment Mr. Simmons approached the front of the class, sweat began forming across Eugene's forehead and his hands started to tremble. What if he suddenly froze in front of the class? What if he said exactly what he intended not to say? The doubts formed inside his head even faster than the sweat on his exterior, and he commenced to seriously question his motives in performing such a courageous deed.  
  
Thankfully (and possibly unfortunately), Mr. Simmons selected Peapod Kid to present first, quickly followed by Arnold and Harold. As he watched his fellow classmates channel back and forth from their desks, Eugene's confidence wavered until he finally came to the decision to execute his plan. He had already finished the picture, and it would be awfully difficult to sketch another one in the allotted time.  
  
About halfway through the presentation, Phoebe was selected to showcase her picture. Hers was a painting made up of vivid colors and thin brushstrokes. There were numerous plants painted onto the canvas, very few of which Eugene was able to recognize.  
  
Phoebe's voice was almost overflowing with enthusiasm as she spoke: "One of the things that I cherish most about my life is my bonsai garden. My mother and I began it when I was only five years of age, and now it has progressed to cover one-tenth of my backyard. We have grown all varieties of flowers and shrubs, and we are soon hoping to add more. My bonsai garden is one of the only objects in my life that can cheer me up no matter what attitude the day has presented for me. Thank you". The class responded with light applause, along with Mr. Simmons commendations of Phoebe's elegant artwork. It was extremely well done, but Sheena had painted better on a regular basis.  
  
As more and more students were called to the front of the classroom, Eugene again found something to motivate himself with. Phoebe Hyerdahl, the intelligent and yet still lovely member of his class, was actually vulnerable. Maybe Eugene could replace the bonsai garden for her, that way she could have a person to depend on instead of an inanimate object. Even with it being just a whim, it was not out of possibility.  
  
With these ambitious thoughts flowing through his mind, Sheena was called next to present. Eugene had recalled that the majority of the class had already participated, so he would more than likely be following his good friend.  
  
Sheena hugged her painting close to her (but not close enough to spill paint), and slowly turned it around to reveal the tree that Eugene had such expected. However, he quickly discovered that it was not Sheena placed peacefully under its branches; it was he! It appeared as if he was looking up at the clouds, with a blade of grass in his hand as well as a smile on his face. The picture was utterly beautiful, and it was undoubtedly the greatest artwork his friend had ever put forward.  
  
Sheena spoke hesitantly at first, but her confidence grew as her explanation progressed. "While I usually try to paint myself into many of my pictures, I decided to make this painting about somebody very close to me, and somebody that I care about with every inch of my heart: Eugene." The class gasped at the boldness of Sheena's statement, but she did not hesitate in the least. "As you can see, he is smiling while looking up at the clouds. Eugene is always such a positive influence on me I decided to make him looking upward, just as he is always carrying my spirit up. I painted this to show my gratitude to Eugene, and to show just how appreciative I am to have him in my life." The class applauded uproariously as Sheena stepped down from the front, smiling at Eugene as she took her seat. Eugene smiled back, but it was difficult to do in the midst of his grinding teeth.  
  
"Wow, that was very, very, special," Mr. Simmons said sincerely as he stood up from his desk. "Now we are at the last person of the day: Eugene! Why don't you step up front and show us what exactly it is that you hold dear."  
  
Eugene didn't stand up; in fact, he could barely bend a muscle. He was completely and utterly devastated, and could scarcely move his hands, let alone speak in front of an entire classroom. After such an emotional presentation by Sheena, he would feel horrible stepping up and showcasing a portrait of another girl.  
  
Nearly a minute passed before Eugene seemed to make any response to Simmons' question. He repeated his question again and again, but to no ultimate avail. Eugene had blanked his teacher out; he knew he didn't have the cruelty inside of him to break Sheena's heart. He didn't think he loved her at that moment, but he did truly care for her.  
  
While these thoughts were pondering through his head, Eugene felt a strong clenching inside of his heart. What if he did love Sheena and this entire obsession with Phoebe had simply been a diversion from the truth? After all, with the beautiful artworks and the dancing at recess, how could he not love her? In spite of his feelings for Phoebe, Sheena had been everything to him during his entire childhood. He couldn't imagine a moment passing where Sheena was not in his thoughts.  
  
Why didn't he just admit it, then? If he cared so much for Sheena and knew that her feelings were identical, why hadn't the truth resonated from his lips? There was no time to wait anymore. His decision was made even with his sketch of Phoebe lying directly in front of him. It was Sheena he adored; Sheena he cherished more than any other living creature on the planet.  
  
However, just as Eugene's lips parted to say the fateful words, Mr. Simmons voice rose above his own.  
  
"Eugene, if you do not wish to present your special artwork yourself, then why don't you have someone showcase it for you?"  
  
Once again Eugene intended to decline; he wanted to shred the sketch of Phoebe and burn all traces of it. Unfortunately, he was not given an ample opportunity to, as Harold quickly reached over to snag the picture from his desk.  
  
"I'll present it for him, Mr. Simmons!" the brute screeched as he turned the sheet over to closely examine Eugene's artwork, and his inevitable despair.  
  
Upon simply catching a brief glimpse of the sketch, Harold sped to the front of the class and waved the picture back and forth.  
  
"Hey look, everybody! Eugene drew a picture of Phoebe! Haha, poor wittle Eugene is in love!"  
  
Mr. Simmons attempted to the best of his ability to hush Harold, but the cackles and taunts of the classroom were already beyond his control. It was almost as if the entire room had transformed into a strident of insults, each shouting something different in order to crush Eugene's heart even further.  
  
"Eugene and Phoebe sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"  
  
"Slap him good, Phoebe!"  
  
"Give the geek what he's worth!"  
  
The bell rang in the midst of the laughter, and Eugene had a perfect view of Phoebe's mad dash from the classroom. He could obviously tell that she was embarrassed, even though he had ultimately was indifferent to the feelings of Phoebe. What bothered him the most was Sheena's departure. He called out to her from inside the mod of taunting that encircled him, but he received no response. The only evidence Sheena left behind consisted of a small trail of her heartbroken tears.  
  
. It had seemed as if the entire class had turned against him now, for he was surrounded and yet alone. Through it all, he did manage some sort of clever escape in crouching under the desks and darting through the front door, which Mr. Simmons had kindly opened for his convenience. That still didn't keep him from being slammed into a locker by Gerald, who may have been hurrying off to console Phoebe (one of his better friends).  
  
As in a frantic scurry, Eugene rushed over to his locker to retrieve his lunch box. While initially having trouble with his combination, he snagged his cargo and sped towards the front doorway of the school. Maybe he was trying to catch Sheena or maybe he was making an escape from the mob of students, but something was causing him to dash wildly towards the exit. Unfortunately, this panicked hurry proved to be his downfall, as he was unable to again notice the chubby leg of Herald Berman tripping him out onto the pavement of the entryway. He was accustomed to such humiliation, but this time there was no friendly hand to raise him to his feet.  
  
Eugene watched the students board the bus, and the departure of the vehicle symbolized his true isolation from the world now. He had lost, and nearly every state of his life was in disarray. He made no attempt to catch the bus, as there seemed to be no point in being around the same congregation of people that had tormented and humiliated him. There was no victory in failure; there were no moonlit fantasies of Hawk Mountain and perfect worlds. It was reality, and quite a cruel reality it was.  
  
With that in mind, Eugene began the excruciating ten-block journey to his house on foot. He walked, and walked, and walked...  
  
*-*  
  
Jack Horowitz had remained stationary upon the conclusion of Eugene's tragic story. He knew of a million ways in which to advise an individual, but in that moment every piece of counsel in his head became obsolete.  
  
The room was silent for nearly an eternity; the outside world seemed to not exist as Eugene and Jack stared at one another across the small room. The only sounds that could be heard were the whistling of the wind outside and the pattering of teardrops against the floor.  
  
Finally, in nearly a spur of a moment, Eugene finally opened his mouth to speak again.  
  
"And that's the way it was."  
  
With that, the silence resumed.  
  
--  
  
Note: There is only one more part of the story to go, so I hope you stay for the conclusion. 


	4. Solace

"The sky is the limit, but only if you are willing to fly."  
  
4. Solace  
  
As Jack Horowitz pondered the correct and inspiring things in which to tell his son, his fingers pattered against the desk table. He knew that there would be a time in Eugene's life when situations like this would occur, but he never thought of it to come so quickly. He had in all honesty grown to be quite amazed at how rapidly times had changed; his son, who was only nine years of age, was coming to him with a problem that typically only existed for high school students or even men his own age.  
  
Even so, he was forced to think of something acceptable to tell his son. He had never been the greatest at giving advice (one time he had told Eugene to cook eggs in the microwave), but he could not let his son down at this critical stage in life. After already feeling like a failure of a father, he would be completely degraded if he neglected his duty now.  
  
Through the course of his story, Eugene had moved onto the carpet floor and now he remained motionless in the corner of the small room, seemingly staring at nothing but rather drifting off into his own world; a world in which everything could be wonderful and peaceful from morning until night. However, his dreams were quickly interrupted by the calm, and surprisingly soothing, voice of his father.  
  
"Eugene, there are some things that happen around us that we have no real power over." Jack paused for a moment to wipe the sweat off of his diffident forehead, and continued. "And even though those horrible times seem as if they will never get any better, they will. We're all going to have bad days sometime or other."  
  
Eugene was now having a difficult time removing the tears from his dampened face, but he did manage to talk in the midst of his breaking voice: "I know that, but it shouldn't have been this bad! Every day it's the same thing, dad! I run into school, happy and optimistic, in spite of the fact that I get bullied and tripped all the time!"  
  
"Well, I can call your teacher and put the bullying to a stop..."  
  
"No! That's not even the point! I don't mind the bullies so bad; it's the other things now!"  
  
"What other things?"  
  
Eugene ceased the downpour of tears for a brief moment and wiped his eyes. "I didn't just lose Phoebe, but I lost Sheena. I lost my best friend."  
  
Jack looked back at the enormous mound of paperwork he had stacked around his desk and nearly threw it across the room in disgust. He didn't care about the Greenberg conflict anymore. He methodically kicked off his shoes, and within a moment he had joined his son on the burgundy carpet of the study.  
  
Slowly but affectionately, Jack took his two bony arms and wrapped them around Eugene, who was now again sobbing.  
  
"I'm sorry," was all he could muster to say as he continued to hold his child in his arms.  
  
"What should I do, dad?" The tears had not stopped their continuous flow, but Eugene turned his now-reddened eyes upward to meet with the gaze of his father.  
  
Jack sighed slowly, and continued to run his thin fingers through his son's hair as he spoke. "We all have problems in our lives and days that seem as if the world seems to fall apart around us. I know; I've had my share of them over the years. And I'm not even a good role model when it comes to this kind of advice." The father paused for a moment to relinquish the memories inside of his own head, and then continued. "When Gracie was killed, I didn't think the world would ever be okay again. I had basically given up on myself, but I kept going simply for the sake of you. I wanted you to be better than I am, Eugene." He paused again for a moment for a deep breath before looking down closely into Eugene's eyes. "I never really did get over her death, though; do you know I haven't even had dinner with a woman in years?"  
  
Eugene chuckled lightly at his father's attempt at humor. "Wow. I guess I eat lunch with girls every day, huh." As a small smile began to exterminate the tears from his face, Eugene looked up again into his father's eyes.  
  
"I guess the better question to ask is what should WE do, dad?"  
  
"Yeah, I suppose so," Jack replied, emulating his son's unexpected happiness. "There's really only one thing we can do in situations like this."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Lift our heads high and look forward to the future. Things will always get better if we allow them to. Just don't let your problems get you down or you'll end up a lonely loser like me."  
  
In the small room, which now seemed warm and spacious, Eugene placed a comforting arm around his father. "I still have faith in you, dad."  
  
"Thanks, son," Jack replied with the trace of a smile. "And I still think that we can find a solution to your problem. Now it's not yet nine o'clock, so your friend Sheena isn't likely to be asleep. Why don't you go off and give her a call? The only way you're going to be able to fix your difficulty is to talk to her about it."  
  
"You don't think she's going to be mad at me?"  
  
"Oh, I'm positive she'll be mad, but at least this way you can start to ask for her forgiveness. Girls are kind of strange, Eugene, in that some of the best times to talk to them are when they are not expecting a conversation."  
  
Eugene batted his eyebrows up at his father's suggestion. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Trust me. She'll be much happier this way than if you ignored her altogether. I'll even make a deal with you. If you can get to be friends with Sheena again, I'll start trying to make some new friends myself. I'll even go out to dinner occasionally."  
  
"Okay," Eugene replied cheerfully, and reaching out to grasp his father's outstretched hand, the two shook hands to make the deal official. The hand- shaking slowly led into a brief hug, and Eugene climbed up to his feet and helped Jack to do the same.  
  
"So should I go get the phone now?" he asked his father upon his standing.  
  
"You better do it now before we're sure she's gone to sleep," Jack replied with a reserved smile. "Good luck, son; I'm sure you'll do just fine."  
  
Eugene had walked the short distance to the doorway before turning back to face his father, who was illuminated against the city lights and stars of the window. "Hey dad?" he asked, calmly and subtly.  
  
"Yeah, son?"  
  
"Thanks. For everything."  
  
Eugene crossed over into the hallway, and picked up the nearby telephone. Jack Horowitz could hear him dialing a phone number, and then asking to speak to Sheena. He then decided to close the door; he felt like it wasn't necessary to listen in to his son's conversation. Eugene was a great kid, and he was positive that everything would turn out okay with him in the end.  
  
Jack then realized that he needed to resume his work on the Greenberg conflict (as much as it irked him) before things would not be okay with his boss. However, that did not halt him from taking one final look into the night sky, and up at the silver star that shined over the city and beyond the reaches of his imagination.  
  
*-*  
  
It has been a while since I said I loved you  
  
And how much our contact means to me  
  
I've been complacent; I deserve the consequences  
  
Even though it has come down to this  
  
*-*  
  
I cannot keep the tears from falling  
  
Even though the heartache will not last  
  
Times always change and trends are fleeting  
  
But the sight of you is always bliss  
  
*-*  
  
Everything seems to crumble quickly  
  
But can take an eternity to rebuild  
  
I am willing, though, to wait forever  
  
For your smile; your hug; your kiss  
  
*-*  
  
So even now when all seems hopeless  
  
The darkest doom of all who dream  
  
There's still a light at the end of the tunnel  
  
Tomorrow still exists  
  
*-*  
  
An indefinite amount of time later...  
  
It had grown to become a beautiful spring afternoon. The daisies and wildflowers circling the mountain trail fluttered in the inviting wind as two figures passed by them on the way to the summit. The sun seemed to be shining brighter on that day than any other, which only helped to amplify the garish beauty of the nearby scenery.  
  
It had taken them a few hours to reach the pinnacle, but upon their arrival Eugene sat down the picnic basket and blanket over the emerald-green grass and marble-like stone. The city of Hillwood seemed so minute below, almost as if it was a miniscule speck in an endless sky. Eugene had always wanted company atop of Hawk Mountain; this was the first time he had ever been to the summit with anyone else, and now he was sure he wouldn't want to be there with any person other than Sheena.  
  
After taking the final bite of her apple, Sheena sat back on the blanket and gazed over at the one she loved with her sparkling brown eyes. "You were right, Eugene. This place is truly beautiful, more than I ever imagined it could be."  
  
"Well, it's only second in beauty to you," he replied with a sly grin.  
  
"You're so sweet, even if you are corny," his new girlfriend replied while taking in a look at the landscape surrounding her. "You know, it's almost as if we're in another world up here, away from all the smog and congregation of the city."  
  
Eugene heard the constant chirping of nearby birds, and felt the wind pushing warmly against his back. "It's nice, that's for sure."  
  
Sheena wrapped her silky arms around his neck. "It's more wonderful than anything in my wildest dreams. Thank you."  
  
While the couple packed up their picnic basket and prepared to leave, Eugene took one last look at Hillwood below. He had known the city for his entire life as a place of dreams and opportunities, but he could now state that not all of his fantasies were as elusive as he thought. He had found the love of his life, and couldn't be happier in any shape or form.  
  
He also knew that at that moment a man and woman would be shopping below for a cradle, and finding a larger place for their new family to live. They had been through difficult times, and yet had somehow weathered through their tragedies to find each other. It was one of the many great marvels of the world.  
  
As he turned back to Sheena, he took the picnic supplies up in one hand and brushed through his girlfriend's hair with the other. It was amazing; the one person he never expected to be with was the same one that he wholly adored.  
  
"Are you ready?" he asked her while planting his feet on the cool grass.  
  
His long-awaited girlfriend nodded her head slowly in reply, and turned towards the horizon.  
  
"Yes. I'm ready."  
  
Eugene took Sheena's hand in his, and they slowly flew off through the wind and into the depths of the clouds.  
  
THE END  
  
--  
  
Note: I thank everyone that has read this story from the bottom of my heart. Truly, this story is closer to me than any other work that I have written, and has had a greater impact on my own life, as well. It has helped me to see things in a different light, and I hope it will for you, also.  
  
I first would like to dedicate this story to Mindy, my best friend and the Sheena in my own life, as a secret wish that I hope to come true. This story is dedicated to my mother (who is in fact alive) and my father, for always being there to help me out and listen to my own boyhood problems.  
  
With that, I say farewell and until another time,  
  
Chief 


End file.
